


House of Memories

by PsychoFrog



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, War AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-05 11:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11577105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoFrog/pseuds/PsychoFrog
Summary: Draco and his family are trapped in their own house by Lord Voldemort and his followers. However during a stroll, he hears something he ought to never have, and finds himself trapped again in a whole other house.





	1. Chap 1

**Author's Note:**

> The characters don't belong to me but to the author of the Harry Potter series; J.K.Rowling. Same goes with most of the sets.

Draco wasn’t someone whom you could qualify as stupid. It was something even Saint Potter could not dispute. Sometimes slightly reckless, but not stupid. So eventually when the Dark Lord came back to power, he wasn’t the one to start complaining about whether enrolling or not. He just knew he had to, it wasn’t even worth debating the pros and cons. It wasn’t like he ever had a choice anyway, and he just knew that instead of crying over his fate, he had better take the best out of it. In this world, hesitating or crying did not keep you alive. Instead, he tried his best to follow. 

When the Dark Lord wanted him somewhere, he went. When he wanted him to watch, he watched. And only when he was sure he was as alone as he could possibly be, would he fall to his knees and refrain from puking as memories of the day would flash through his head. Often, he would not make it to the bathroom before it got too bad, and the messy display picturing this fucked up life, tears would roll down and scar his pale figure. He would only allow this portraying weakness to go on for a few instants, before a cleaning charm would take all of it away. Regaining his perfect composure, he would stand up straight, wipe his wet cheeks, and carry on with whatever was the life he was living, reminding himself that these seizures would never help him in any way. 

This attitude was probably what helped him survive this long in this whole unstable aggressive atmosphere. He went through each day maintaining his poker face until he couldn't keep it anymore. He spent every day sharing his own home and living with Death Eaters, secretly fearing them as much as loathing them for what they were; intruders to whom his father had given everything, from his home to his life, not to mention his wife's and his son's. Draco wasn't exactly sure if he hated his father for this or if he understood. He was unable to conceive what he, had he been in his shoes, would have done. Anyway, there was no room for understanding. He barely saw his father who, he believed, was too worried to leave the Dark Lord's side, maybe in case the latter got lost in the depth of Malfoy Manor. Draco sniggered before rolling his eyes. As if.

Concerning his mother, he would make sure to see her everyday, even if it was only about catching a glimpse of her in some distant corridor. As ridiculous as it could seem, it made him feel slightly better about the situation, maybe a bit safer too. If his father was too afraid to do anything for him, he knew if times of true danger were to arise for him, he could always count on his mother. She had always been here for him when he had needed her, and he trusted her to be there until the very end. May it be as late as possible. As bad as the situation in the Manor was, he was glad to have his mother with him.

Other acquaintances were to be counted in too. Snape, for example. He had to admit he had been very confused when he heard that a man who had lived at Hogwarts for so many years, was taking part in an association whose main goal was to get rid of its current headmaster. But then, nobody was to be trusted, he learned it the hard way when Dumbledore had fallen. Also, compared to other people walking freely across his home, having Snape was a gift. Amongst them, the ones who he most feared , if not the Dark Lord himself, his mad aunt Bellatrix and Fenrir Greyback the werewolf held their ranks. There was no way someone of seventeen like him could find this situation comfortable. But he had to get used to this, gratifying each of them with a respectful nod when he ran into them, for if they were to be on the winning side of the war, it was not going to get better. Strangely enough, Draco had never imagined what would happen if they happened to lose. When you lived in between the cold walls of Malfoy Manor, there was no such question.

And so it was with these little rituals that days passed on, each one carrying its own share of individual horrors. Draco would sit by the windowsill, watching the bad weather surrounding Malfoy Manor never seemed to go away. He suspected Death Eaters entertaining darkness with charms which didn't let any sunshine. God damn, he really needed some sun.

Eventually, he got fed up. He stood up from his favoured sitting place and the doors of his quarters flung open as he made his way to the main entrance. Apparating and disparating in and out the manor were subject to restrictions, and surprisingly, whereas being the owner of the improvised headquarters, his family and him did not benefit from any exemption. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised hearing they were being more watched and suspected than others, even though no one had explicitly said that. He just knew. And some signs did not help believing otherwise. Had he even set foot on the last stair step, a Death Eater he recognized as Dolohov stepped up in front of him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Where are you going?"  
"Outside."  
"Where outside?"

Draco suppressed a sneer as Dolohov's thick Russian accent rose to his ears a second time in less than thirty seconds. More than he ever heard him talking in a day. Instead, he sighed.

"I don't know."

The man didn't seem impressed and his head slightly tilted to his left, making his dark hair brush against his shoulder. Malfoy understood he wouldn't be going anywhere if he didn't give him satisfying answer, or at least something he could believe for like, an hour. And suddenly, it made him feel very tired. His shoulders, beforehand tensed up, fell, and his eyes closed for a while. When did things change to become that way? He couldn't even take a step out of this silver prison without anyone inquiring to know where he was heading, and most importantly why.

"Listen up..."

The man's lip twitched for a second, and Draco quickly changed the tone in which he was addressing him. His shoulders built up again until he was standing straighter. His height could almost compare to the other's, however, if ever they were to engage in a fight, he was very much conscious he didn't stand a chance against the wizard's physique, or spell knowledge. So even if it pained him to be the one who had to demand permission in what was supposed to be his own house, he knew he'd better not seem defiant or smart.

"I hoped to go to Diagon Alley. Go... shopping."  
"Shops are in the majority closed," reminded the other man.  
"Then, just, grab a pint of Butterbeer somewhere, I don't know." He shrugged.

Again, the man's lips twitched and an eyebrow shot up, reminding Draco of the way his father had looked at him a few years ago, disapprovingly, when he had asked if he could invite some friend over. Or of the marble statue they kept in the ballroom.

"Look, I just want to go out. Breathe a little. I haven't been out since... since..." He thought about it. The last time he recalled having breathed fresh air was when... he was sent to bring in someone. He shuddered. He didn't want to remember this. "Since too long. "

Dolohov showed, however, no sign of sympathy, and it almost seemed to him as he only eyed him being even more pathetic than he thought he had been before.

"I don't know what you could possibly fear from me going outside, he finally let slip out. It's not like I had any... friends to visit. Or anything too stupid to do."

This time, he thought he could make up an amused glint in the back of Dolohov's eyes. He almost snorted. He didn't mention that he said that because to him, he already had done the stupidest thing possible long ago.

"Anyway. I'll come back. I just need to walk for a bit, stretch my legs. Breathe."

This time, Dolohov seemed to yield and relaxed, though not stepping aside. 

"I'll have to inform the Dark Lord about this, are you aware?"  
"It's not like I wished you would do otherwise. I'll repeat, but I have no intention of leaving more than a few hours, and all for a stroll. So do not count me out yet, please."

The elder one growled something under his breath, sounding much like "Why would you want to stretch your legs walking when you have an entire gym here, fucking kid" and Draco took the liberty to risk going around the man and reach for the door handle. 

As he stepped in his garden, he took the time to walk to the gigantic enchanted gates that closed the property, and passed them, rendering the surrounding wards harmless to his departure. He had spoken the truth. Draco intended on coming back. As bad as it was, there was nowhere else for him anyway.

He apparated in the middle of Diagon Alley and heavily sighed when he noted it was both desert and as dark as it had been at the manor. The black clouds didn't want to seem to leave him after all. He grimaced and turned on himself to admire the place. Diagon Alley had always been full of people, almost overcrowded. Happy. Colorful. Now, what was left. Deserted black alleys. Closed shops. Wanted notices barely sticking on the billboard. Not only Death Eaters, also Order Members and random people who disappeared without leaving any traces. Probably dead, thought Draco before heading downwards. He didn't know why he came here. He knew even Dolohov informed him that all the shops were closed. Even Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was closed. He knew from sources they had been one of the last to give in, but no doubt everyone was more interested in hiding now, or fighting whatever battle there was to fight. 

Draco kicked a piece of broken glass he saw lying on the pavement and watched land near the ex-bright red shop all the kids used to adore. Emotionless, he was about to turn away when he heard something coming from the insides of it. And before he could think, he saw himself jump to the side and quickly crouch behind whatever damaged kind of furniture could be laying in the middle street. Afterwards, he could have guessed it was some table of the Leaky Cauldron that had been thrown outside, and which had likely been the cause of the broken glass. He learned later on he could have felt grateful towards whoever had done the deed, for seconds he heard a door opening.  
Normally, these kinds of sounds could not be said to be heard, but Draco blamed the unkept wood for the creaking. And there is no space for normally in this story, for everything was so far from the normal everyone thought they knew. It seemed to the young man that the creaking had to happen. Just, why was it for him. He closed his eyes, back against the solid surface, trying to gather his wits.

Behind him, he heard a silent swear and a hollow sound, almost as someone had shoved another. So they were not alone. Draco had to work hard not to turn around and look. He tried telling himself it was stupid, that people were allowed to be here anyways, and that there was no need for hiding. He was a respectable citizen and ...

A Death Eater , whispered to him his brain.

Okay. That seemed to be a perfectly valid reason for wanting to hide. As silently as he could, Draco reached for his wand. As soon as he felt it, hard and comforting in his hands, he relaxed a little and attempted into peeking at what seemed to be the Weasleys' shop. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the slight gap that now composed the entrance to the store. Someone had definitively been here. His head turned to follow the way that led to a small and narrow alley. Without thinking, he entered and his small heels hit the pavement with a small tapping noise. 

For the first time since he arrived, he noticed how wet the ground was. It must have rained a while ago, the stone was still slippery. He paused a minute, stopping in the middle of the alley, and with his free hand, rubbed his forehead. What was he doing? Since when did he care where when was a robber at the Weasleys'. If it was a robber, of course. And if he ran into the wizards or witches he heard, what would he do? Nothing. 

A noise made him turn around, wand in front of him and heart pounding. He heard faint swearing and the sound of shoes. One must have fallen down. This was stupid. Everything was stupid. Why had everything become like that? Draco pressed his eyes shut. What the hell was he doing here? Why the fuck must he have left the stupid manor, and the fuck had he not simply befriended the friendly murderers that occupied his home. He threw his head upwards, letting his hand slip back to his side, and almost wailed. Merlin. Why was it always him? 

Not thinking anymore, he continued and made his way through the dripping stone, watching his steps, for noise as much as for his safety and balance. His heart was dangerously pounding in his chest, and as much as he thought he was felt afraid and unsafe, a small part of him actually lived through this exaltation. The sweet scent of adrenaline.  
Nothing you could get in the manor, snarled his insides.

Draco was increasingly careful as he thought he was arriving at his destination. The streets were still as wet, but were starting to grow wider, and the suffocating atmosphere he was trapped in at the beginning started dissolving into thin air. 

Suddenly, he stopped, and backed against the wall. Voices. 

"... everyone... should..."

Draco silenced his breathing and tried to concentrate on the snippets of conversation he could focus on. 

From what he could deduce, there were more than two. More like four active speakers, and he didn't know if there were anymore just standing and listening. This was when he realized how much of a mistake he had made. He almost started hitting his head on the brick wall when he thought about it. What the hell was he doing here? This was without a doubt a conversation he should not be listening to, and was he found out, he would be in deep, deep trouble. Shit. Why, why, why did he have to be so fucking stupidly curious?!  
But as he thought about quietly retreating to a remote place to apparate home, a name was said and captured his attention.

Harry.

Draco had no doubt on who this was supposed to be, even though he believed there was much more than one single Harry on this damn planet. But he knew, he could have bet his life that it was this Harry. It was always this Harry. He snorted before clapping a hand over his mouth, realizing what he'd done. Luckily, nobody out there seemed to have noticed anything.

They had all his attention again. Pressed against the damp wall, Draco started focusing on the conversation again.

"... he said that we should... happening... something... is not here..."

From this distance, the whispers didn't make any sense, therefore he tried leaning as much as his hiding spot allowed him to. Although everything seemed to become more distinct, it didn't help him that much. But he went with it.

"... No! You just can't... maybe go... Grimmauld place..."

Draco's eyes lit and a smile twitched his lips. Ah. So there it was. Interesting. No doubt he would be rewarded if he brought this information, even thought weak, back to the Dark Lord. Maybe he could earn some privileges for him and his family. His heart warmed up a moment thinking of it. So be it. But as he was about to turn around to head back up the alley again, a strong hand grabbed him, and quickly deprived him of a grip on his wand. Over his mouth and nose was firmly pressed a handkerchief with a faint scent he could not identify. He tried screaming but nothing loud enough came out of his lungs, and after what seemed to be a minute or less, he drifted to sleep.


	2. Chap 2

When Draco woke up, the first thing he could make out was his sitting position. He tried to strech only to discover his arms where tied behind his chair, and so were his feet. So, traditional way, no spells or potions. He sensed one of his eyebrows shoot up in appreciation, it could have been worse. He grunted as he then raised his neck which he found to be stiff. This helped him figure out he had passed out and had been tied up for what must have been more than an hour. His eyes did not take long to adapt to his darkened surroundings. For once, living in the Manor where rays of light were known to be scarce, gave him an advantage. 

The place itself was pretty gloomy. Draco could admire grey walllpaper with a regular pattern of what looked like ivy, painted black. In front of him stood a closed door that seemed to have been left untouched for a while. The floor bore a crimson carpet, and underneath he could guess dark wooden slates. No furniture seemed to decorate the room, let alone the chair he was sitting on.

"You're lucky."

Draco jumped as a deep voice filled the space. His heart furiously beating, he tried to turn around to see to whom the voice belonged to. However, the other person had expected this reaction as Draco guessed he was sitting somewhere his gaze could not reach. Throat dry and hoarse, he decided to respond. Maybe it would help him decide if this new companion was directly behind him, or more leaning to one side or another.

"How is that ?" He croaked.

He swore in his head and tried humecting his lips, and swallowed hard in order to soothe his throat. He hated how his tone had let escape how much he felt insecure and, worse. Weak. He had learnt the hard way that in his world if you happened to appear, or even feel weak, you rarely made it until the end of the day. If he had fallen in the hands of someone who thought the same way, he was positively screwed.

"They've just finished arguing."

Did he dream or did he really hear his warder use an amused tone? Forgetting where he was for a moment, he sniggered. Sure, what next, they all playing Exploding Snap together? Yeah, of course, whenever they liked. 

"Who's _they _?" He asked, appreciating the fact that his voice seemed better toned this time.__

__"Oh, I almost forgot you were the curious type." This immediately put Draco back in his place. It was like if the man - because considering the deep voice, there was a big chance for the person being a man- had emptied a bucket of freezing water over his head. He shuddered, trying to forget the disturbing thought. "Don't worry, I think you'll find out soon enough."_ _

__Even though the tone sounded light, Draco felt highly uncomfortable, if not to be said, scared. Was this supposed to reassure him? If so, it was a total miss. He felt the urge to scream it to his kidnapper but doubted it would result in something very positive. Rule number one in order to survive, to avoid making people angry or unhappy with you. It generally helped._ _

__So instead, he took a deep breath and tried to assess his current situation. With someone in the room, he won't risk trying to see if these knots had a weak spot. They must have taken his wand away, Draco could not imagine them to be that stupid. However, he was happily surprised when he noticed he wasn't bleeding, or did not have any sore limb, if not the hands and neck. So he hadn't been tortured._ _

___Yet. ____ _

____He shuddered again and tried to forget that. He swallowed with difficulty. Even if it would not be the first time, he still dreaded it. He shook his head and resumed to his observations. He was likely to be back to a window, and therefore could not picture where he could be, should it be London or anywhere else. Could they have taken him at the said Grimmauld Place? It could be a possibility. But would they take such a-_ _ _ _

____"What are you thinking about?"_ _ _ _

____He was startled. What kind of person would want to start a conversation with a guy he clearly held captive? Draco was starting to lose his composure._ _ _ _

____"Don't tell me you actually care?"_ _ _ _

____"I don't know."_ _ _ _

____He let out a little laugh before throwing his head back. The hard material of the chair came to cup his neck. It was rather uncomfortable, and he was still unable to see the person. Draco stared at the ceiling. He no longer cared if his answers seemed polite or not. He convinced himself he was going to get hurt anyway, and die sooner or later. Life was not indulgent with spies._ _ _ _

____"What a convenient answer. Don't ask me questions if you don't want to answer mine."_ _ _ _

____"Well, let's say you still haven't given me a reason to either care or not."_ _ _ _

____Draco smiled. Amusing. He noted that his tensed shoulders had somehow relaxed and that the man's voice was surprisingly pleasant. Deep, but kind of warm. It sounded encouraging and made you want to continue talking .Trap or not, Draco didn't feel the urge to think about it. It made time go quicker, and what bad thing could come out of the conversation?_ _ _ _

____"So. What are you thinking about?"_ _ _ _

____"Nothing very precise. Mostly something that resembles _where the fuck am I _? Or, _are you going to torture me _?" he said lightly._____ _ _ _

________The little laugh that had risen at the end of his first sentence had died when he finished the second. He found himself regretting that. There was some silence for a moment, and Draco wondered if he had come to offend the man or if the latter was just surprised because he had guessed right. He hoped he was wrong all the way through._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"You have very strange thoughts."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The sentence was said slowly, as if the man had been deeply surprised, and kind of disappointed. Almost... sad with him having such thoughts. Absolutely unusual._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"On the contrary, I think they are pretty sensible. Try thinking of it from my point of view. You are stuck in an unknown place, tied up to a chair, at the complete mercy of someone you can't see after being caught overhearing a conversation you were likely not meant to hear, and could be seen as spying," he enumerated. "I think we could say my situation can be held as pretty precarious. Don't you think?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________There came no reply to his statement, except a steady silence. This time, surely, he had succeeded into offending his newfound companion. Draco closed his eyes and let out an inaudible sigh before closing his eyes. He considered starting to hum in order to fill the heavy atmosphere but refrained from doing so._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I know who you are."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________His eyes flashed open as the answer came. He waited for him to continue, but no sentence seemed to follow this enigmatic confession. Draco decided to stay silent too, and so they waited, none of them speaking up until at some point he wondered if he had fallen asleep._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He must have, because when he woke up, he found out that his ankles had been freed from the ties of rope. He let a satisfied moan escape while he stretched, cracking his back and his neck. Everything seemed in order and functioning. Nice. He tried turning around again, and in vain._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"What was that for?" he asked, without asking himself if the other was still there or not._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Luckily enough for him, he was, but the voice sounded deeper, almost like if he too, had slept._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I don't think you're a threat."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Well thank you. Then will you-"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"But some people" interrupted him "Don't agree with me."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I guess that explains why I'm still semi-tied up."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"You guess right."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Thanks. Do I get a prize for that?" he asked. Compared to his earlier situation , he felt more secure and relaxed. Thanks to the man who seemed unexpectedly friendly and had shown no sign of violence so far. He could imagine him smiling. This thought made him, however, uncomfortable, seeing as he didn't have the slightest idea of what the man looked like. "Hey. Will I ever get to see your face?" he asked out of a sudden._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Why is it this important?" the other laughed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I don't know. Just... you sit on the complete opposite of my seat as if you really didn't want to risk being seen. But, on the other hand, you don't seem to mind talking to me, and if I dared I would even say you seem... friendly." He heard a little flattered chuckle. "All of this doesn't help me understand what is happening to me. I don't know if it's the whole point or not, but if you believe I'm no harm to you well..."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I get your point. But I support the theory that sometimes, vision is not necessary. At least not yet. It would only help making quick assumptions and would make everything much more complicated than it already is."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Draco reckoned this was the longest he ever heard the other man speak. His statement bore wisdom, he was fully aware of that, but his present curiosity needed to be satiated, and therefore this answer wouldn't do._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Yeah, but am I not supposed to make assumptions now? I mean, I literally have no idea of what is happening to me. Or what you are doing here. You're just sitting there, doing nothing... what are you waiting for? Don't you have anything to do?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I could be knitting now you'd never know."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I beg your par... Was that supposed to be funny?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He heard a muffled laughter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I thought it was going to be."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"You... I'm sorry but do you know you are really weird, it kind of scares me now that I come to think about it. Please tell me you're no psychopath having fun with me before planning to kill me mercilessly. And please stop laughing immediately it only makes it creepier. STOP LAUGHING FOR FUCK'S SAKE. NOW."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And at this exact moment, the door flung open and Draco found himself staring at a wand pointed directly at his nose. Well damn._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Charlie! I heard screaming! Are you ok?" exclaimed Ron while looking over him. His face took an utterly puzzled expression when he realized that _Charlie _was laughing his head off. Draco would have gladly laughed too at the ginger's surprised face, but the threatening wand did not put him in the mood of doing so. "What the fuck Charlie??" he asked while looking down to him.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Sorry but... that kid is so funny!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Draco and Ron shared a look of mild horror, though not for the same reasons._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"What the fuck did you do to him Malfoy?" Snarled the Gryffindor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"What the fuck" he responded, using the same structure as to empaphize his sentence. "Do you want me to do while being like that?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Oh fun, why had it to be a Weasley. Why was it always a Weasley. He knew it. He should have stayed at home. Died. Something, but not wander around in Diagon Alley. He should have known, his mother had always warned him; never follow strangers._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Suddenly he felt a hand drop on his shoulder and was bemused when he realized it expressed friendliness towards him. Ron looked as he might faint from any moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I thought he was going to be worse, but seriously Ron, I think you were a bit harsh on him."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Draco shot a smug smile to his childhood rival, enjoying the vision of the face decomposing itself as it looked from the hand to him, and back to the hand again. Concerned, he looked up and... ginger hair greeted him again. Except this one looked more like a lion's mane, longer, and wilder than Ron's, with a slight beard._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________'Harsh? Harsh??" Ron shrieked. "Are you kidding me? Malfoy's a real bitch!!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Wow, this guy really could have a high-pitched voice, he thought. And was very rude._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Well look who's tal..." he started saying back, before being interrupted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Ron..."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"No seriously, I don't know what he did to you, but this one is the worst asshole the world's ever bore. He's rich, full of himself, arrogant and-"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I'm sure you're..."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"No!! Are you fucking blind?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________While Ron was obviously reciting the long list of his personal qualities, he took the time to observe the man with whom he had so casually conversed with.The man had even more freckles than the one in front of him, was only slightly smaller, but still taller than himself, and his skin bore a tan. He also had the leisure to admire the various scars that ran across the muscular arm owning the warm hand on his shoulder. Then suddenly it struck him. How in the world..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The ginger man, whose name was apparently Charlie, smiled at him and patted him on the back while Ron was still acting all hysteric over him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I suppose presentations are useless, it seems like you know my brother. At least he seems to know you pretty well."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Draco stared at him as he shot him another smile and resumed into trying to calm Weasley down. He proceeded into assimilating the whole new information he had acquired. Brother. Brother. Merlin wholemighty. He had fallen in a Weasley nest. Oh gosh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	3. Chap 3

If one day someone had told him he would have had to sit at a table with a Weasley on each side while remaining completely silent, he would most likely have hexed the wizard who had dared say such a thing. However today, it seemed like everything he had once believed in was crumbling, for he was sat at this exact table.

In front of him, he could observe Molly Weasley loudly arguing with their ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Lupin, and another red-headed who was known as William. And there was Ron having a fit in a corner, shrieking while the Weasley girl was trying to calm him down. His hands had been freed too, but as a guarantee of his best behaviour the twins were seated on either side of his chair. He also knew Charlie was standing behind him, as to block the exit door. But who would have been stupid enough to escape a room full of opponents and without a wand, Draco wondered.

The argument between the parties seemed to have been going on for a long time, and looking around he could see he wasn't the one who was starting to feel weary. Furthermore, he had absolutely no idea of what time it could be, but it must be late. Nevertheless he tried to stay focused on what was going on. After all, the main issue debated was _only_ his life.

"WE. CAN'T. LET. HIM. GO." bellowed the Weasley matriarch with a surprisingly powerful voice.

"We can't keep him either!!"

"What about killing him?"

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY WILL YOU CONSIDER SHUTTING UP? THANK YOU."

"We could _Obliviate_ him."

"Are you senseless? Vold... He would notice something is wrong with the kid not knowing where he was for such a long time!! Eventually, he would break the spell and know exactly where we dwell! It was a stupid idea to bring him here in the first place!"

"He heard us talking Lupin, we couldn't just let him go!! It was a good thing Charlie was here and spotted him, otherwise, we could have as well been doomed."

Everyone stopped arguing for a second to turn to the one concerned who just nodded as if it was nothing. Draco noticed a fond smile stretch the lips of Molly Weasley as she looked at her son, but it hardened instantly as it fell on him. He shuddered, uncomfortable, as the conflict resumed.

Strangely enough, he found out he didn't really care what they decided to do to him. It could be the sleep-deprived part of himself speaking, though he believed it was more than that. It was recognition of what was really going on. He knew wherever he was in this blasted world, nothing good could come out of his situation, were he to be sent back to the Death Eaters, tortured, hexed, or killed. All he acknowledged was that he was going to be hurt in either way. Sitting at this table, he felt empty, and all the voices surrounding him sounded hollow, at the verge of disappearing. He found himself extremely tired of the whole situation which seemed pointless and endless . He released a sigh and raised a hand to his temple he slowly massaged. He could feel the beginning of a headache pounder. All the noise around him didn't help him think. His eyes closed for a moment, and before he could stop himself, the words had escaped the boundaries of his thoughts.

"Maybe Weasley is right."

Had he been in any other situation, he would have noticed that Weasley was not a very precise name to use in this very room, but he found himself presently indifferent to this problem. Silence fell onto the room as he opened his eyes to stare at the trio in front of him. He felt the twins' gaze burn his sides, as well as Charlie's on his back.

"Maybe killing me is the best thing to do," he stated very calmly. "I mean, it's easier, quicker, and a long-term solution. Plus, it's cleaner than torture. So even if I'd hate to admit it, he's got the best idea here. Anyway, if you won't do it, just send me back and he'll take great pleasure in doing it himself, only, after extracting all the information I know." His mouth twitched and his eyes shut briefly as he could imagine the torturing he'd have to live through first. "So, I think it's in our best advantage that you do it yourself. As quickly as possible."

The room was completly silent if it weren't for the ticking of a nearby clock.

'Just... don't tell my mother," he pleaded. "Tell her I've just escaped or something, but... it'll break her heart. Please."

It seemed like everyone was taken aback by his announcement as if everyone was unable to absorb what he had said. Even Ron who had appeared eager to finish him off earlier now shifted on his spot, clearly confused over where he should now stand.

"Now, now, don't say silly things like this dear," snapped Molly Weasley.

Draco was surprised to notice her face seemed to have softened and she looked at him with a compassionate look.

"No one is going to kill you here."

She gave a little push to both Lupin and William, clearly appalled by their lack of reaction or approval before she shot him a smile.

"Why not? I mean it could be a quick ending to your problems and mine."

"Don't talk nonsense."

Draco was lost. He didn't understand what had suddenly happened and why everyone now stayed silent whereas Molly Weasley, the very one who had enough lungs and courage to scream easily at three people at a time while remaining feared, seemed to have experienced a rather extreme change of heart. And suddenly, he felt angry. Angry at them for being so weak, and undecided. Angry at them for involving him in their argument when he hadn't asked for anything. Angry because they didn't have the slightest idea of how their decision would impact his life. If they send him back, and that was how he thought it was going to end, he would suffer and die. But if he didn't come back and stayed alive, then it was probable that this scheme would turn against his mother and his father. He didn't want this. His lip curled into an arrogant sneer when he thought of these "rebels" who thought they were doing good, but actually making things worse. His eyes burned with hate as he challenged them with a sarcastic voice.

"And so what are you going to do? Hm? Do any of you have a better idea? Do any of you really know what you are doing?"

"I may have a solution."

Everyone turned towards Charlie, whose eyes were locked on Draco.

"But I don't think you will like it. In fact, I feel like nobody will like it."

 

Draco allowed himself to flop onto the bed of the bedroom that had been assigned to him. As he felt the rough material rub against his cheek and his eyelids flutter, he realized how tired he was. He grumbled something even he couldn't grasp before pulling himself to his feet and forcibly taking his shoes off. He flung his coat at a chair he saw nearby, and his pants and shirt followed. Without thinking anymore, he snuggled in the fresh but used sheets and closed his eyes. Exhausted, he fell asleep almost instantly.

 

When he awoke, pale light was filtered by the window. Draco closed his eyes for a second, trying to put order into his memories, and trying to remember where he was and what he was doing here.

He was somewhere with a lot of Weasleys. Potentially Grimmauld Place. Right.

The Weasleys and Lupin had decided to keep him alive, unlike what he had suggested, and had allowed him to stay there with them so he would be safe from harm and from cursing him. Nice.

He pressed his hand to his forehead and released a deep sigh before pushing the sheets aside and putting his feet on the ground. Retrieving his clothes on the chair where he had left them, he quickly got dressed before exiting the room they had called "his" for the time being. Absent-mindedly, he went down the stairs to what he thought would be the kitchen from his memories, without really knowing what to expect. Certainly not Charlie drinking tea and shooting him a smile when he spotted him near the door.

"Well hello. Finally woke up?"

"Hello," he started, deciding that he'd better be polite if he were to stay here for a while. It would definitely make life easier for him. "What do you mean finally?"

"So you don't know what time it is?"

Obviously not, he internally observed. He decided to just shrug and lean against the wall. He would not risk sitting next to the only Weasley who seemed to be able to knock him out with a mere slap. Even if it was ironically the only one who didn't want to do so.

"It's almost 5pm," the latter informed him with a smile. Noticing Draco's confused face, he took the time to explain himself. "You went to sleep around 1am. So it's been almost 16 hours. I guess you really needed to sleep. Since when haven't you had a decent night?"

Draco stared at his feet trying to remember but gave up and shook his head. The other seemed to understand and took this as an answer without complaint.

"Why don't you sit down? Do you want something to eat? You must be starving! Come on and sit down now, I'll get you something ready!"

"I'm not really hungry" tried Draco before the red-headed would start making a fuss about him. However it turned out wrong, and he was literally dragged to the table and forcibly sat down while the Weasley noticeably losing it.

"Are you kidding me? You look like you've not eaten since forever, mum's going to skin me alive if I don't have you eat at least three plates of something consistant! Oh and I'll make you a cuppa too. You need to be careful and correctly hydrate your body, otherwise, you fall sick more easily and... what could you eat. Maybe pancakes. Pancakes are good. But not at this time... what about waff- no it's the same thing. You like eggs? I'll make eggs."

He had no other choice but to watch the other continue talking alone while he attempted to remain calm, cool and collected. This situation was highly weird, and he had no idea how he should live it through. Around him were grey walls, and still no windows. The corridors were narrow and dark, as made for only one person. He wondered how could a house appear so depressing. His mind wandered towards the Manor where he had spent his entire childhood, and his mood darkened as he remembered what it had become today.

A thud made him jump and the Weasley looked concerned as he pushed the plate more gently towards him. He sat next to him and handed him cutlery, still observing him as he proceeded to feed himself.

Draco surprisingly enjoyed eating. The man had made him eggs, just eggs thoughtfully mixed with herbs he did not recognise. It struck him that for someone who was into potions, he knew relatively so few about cooking. At home, it had always been the house elves' job, and he had never thought of questioning what they put on his plate. But then the Weasleys were different. They were not rich enough to hire a cook, and therefore it was all likely their mother had always been the one cooking, and that she had passed that skill down to her children.

"What are you thinking about?"

Draco shrugged. The question was weird, he didn't really want to answer that if he could pass.

"Not very important," he mumbled taking another bite.

"Maybe, but I still wish to know."

"It's good. The food," he specified, not looking up for a moment before giving in.

A big smile beamed on the red-haired's face. He looked genuinely pleased.

"Thanks! Didn't think you'd enjoy it actually, as you must be used to eating better."

Draco didn't answer and concentrated on his food. He didn't tell him that all these complicated meals at the Manor had ended up losing all their flavour. He couldn't recall the last time it had been when he had eaten something that tasted more than a piece of cardboard. His father would've have been furious to know that.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Ok."

He knew the Weasley hadn't believed him, but he seemed to have decided to accept his answer. He ate in silence for another few seconds before he came back at it again.

"So," he started as to get his attention. "I am aware you won't necessarily like it, but we have to talk to you."

"I should have known you were going to be a messenger. Sitting all alone in the kitchen, waiting for me to wake up... Too good to be true." Draco sneered.

"Don't be so sarcastic. Someone had to have the talk with you, and they thought I should be the one doing so because it's my fault if you're here, and most importantly, I don't hold any grudges against you. At least not yet. And I do hope you feel the same way, though I know the sight of my red hair doesn't exactly make you feel at home."

"So that's what you meant yesterday when you said sometimes sight wasn't the sense needed in order to converse, wasn't it?"

"Would you have spoken as freely as you have if you had known I was a Weasley, Draco?"

He opened his mouth, ready to answer something witty when he was taken aback by the sound of his name being pronounced for the first time. He felt his eyes narrow as he watched the other man next to him. But unlike what he had been expecting there was no sign of trickery in the blue eyes of his, they were just eager to know the truth. Although his mind was crying for him not to, flashing repeatedly the words "blood traitor" over the numerous freckles, he decided to give this Weasley a go. He found himself sick of lying, and for once, he wanted to be able to speak his mind without having to always face dreadful consequences. Anyway, everything had changed in his world over the last 24 hours, and rather than being threatening, this man seemed to be giving him a chance as well, being helpful and even nice to him even after what he had said and done to his family.

"No."

"No what?"

"No, I wouldn't have spoken to you," he admitted. "And no, I don't hold any grudge against you. Yet," he added carefully.

The Weasley exploded into loud laughter at hearing the last moment inclusion, leaving Draco the leisure to wait until he was finished. Unusual man.

"Good," he stated when he regained enough composure. "So can I talk honestly with you and require that you be honest with me in return?"

"We'll see about that. I can try, but don't ask too much of me at once Weasley."

"It's Charlie."

"Excuse me?"

"My name is actually Charles, but call me Charlie, everyone does and it'll be much more simple that way. Then, maybe you could start calling us all by our first names as we are going to spend some together from now on. Family names just-"

"What have I just told you about high expectations?" Draco interrupted before pushing his plate away. He started feeling sick. Something felt horribly wrong about all of this.

"As you like. But then don't mind me calling you Draco. I'm older so it's only fair, and it sounds good. Anyway, let's just get started so we can get over it quickly."

And for once, Draco entirely agreed. The man turned his chair in order to face him and his blue eyes were now observing him with attention, very serious.

"You know who we are, right?"

Draco nodded.

"The remains of Dumbledore's army or something like that."

"Ugh. Not exactly. We're actually called The Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore's army was a different thing Harry created in order to teach students to defend themselves under Umbridge, but I think you remember that. We could say it's a kind of branch of the order. "

"Ah, yeah, I think I heard my father talk about you one or two times... Wasn't very nice things though, but I can understand why."

"That's because at the time, they kind of succeeded into what they did, unlike your father. Anyway, if you know a bit, that'll free us from too much explanations. But just to get this straight, we basically try to prevent Volde... Fuck I forgot we can't say his name. We try to prevent you know who from  taking over the free wizarding world. Or just the world. Let's say from taking over everything. A second time. We could say we're the second generation in a way. You get the idea."

"Yes, I think I see."

"Okay, that's a good start. I'll just skip the story of its foundation and everything, though I think someone will explain it to you another time. Let's just jump to our big concern."

"And it is me I guess."

"Right. Want a prize?" the older man teased.

But Draco was in no laughing mood. He just stared back until the other shrugged and resumed.

"Long story short, you side with the Death Eaters, I luckily caught you spying, now you can't take any information back, but we're kind of... stuck... with you until something changes."

"Yeah, I know, I actually listened yesterday" he jeered.

"I know, but this morning, while you were sleeping, we discussed it again and..."

He seemed uneasy as if he was holding in a terrible revelation. Draco almost laughed. Instead, he rolled his eyes and pushed his empty plate aside to put his hands on the table.

"Spit it out, I haven't got all day."

"Well, actually you have but... Ok, just, we thought... maybe you'd' like to enter the order too." By seeing Draco's more than shocked look, he swiftly backtracked. "As you've got nothing to do. I mean, we won't let you go. You can't break out of the house, it's impossible. From what you've told us yesterday, you can't go back either and you don't seem very happy about the global situation... so... But you don't have to. However, if you do, we'll give you back your wand when we're sure you won't let us down, you could leave the house, and.. I think you could really help us Draco. You could change things."

His tone was deep and his eyes insisting. His hand moved but Draco quickly retreated when he saw his intention was to take his. His chair fell down as he took several steps back, away from the red-haired devil. All colour had faded from his face, and he felt like he might just throw up in the middle of the kitchen.

"I... He's going to kill me," he whispered. "He's going to kill my mother. My father. Everyone. I... I can't."

And without another look for the Weasley, he darted up the stairs and ran towards the bathroom he had spotted while descending earlier. No bothering to check whether someone was already in there, he opened the door and almost threw himself at the toilet. He got to open the lid just on time.

His whole body wrung as the simple memory of a repeated curse filled his brain. And again. Again, until he had nothing else to give. He opened his eyes wide as if to let his present surroundings imprint themselves on his retina.

"Malfoy?"

He spun around, only to see the younger Weasley at the door. He looked oddly concerned but still didn't dare to enter.

"Are you alright?"

"Leave me alone!" He hissed, hoping this would decide the Gryffindor to leave.

Ron straightened and opened his mouth to say something but was cut by Draco threatening to be sick again. He could feel him next to him, as if, despite everything that had happened in the years before, he was trying to help him. He hated him for this. This... politeness. The ignorance in what they were living. They had no idea what was happening. What happened. It was disgusting.

"Weasley" he whispered.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"If you don't leave now..." he choked. He could feel a hand on his back, creating a warm spot. "I'll kill you."

This appeared to be what Weasley needed to hear. Draco heard him stand right up and made for the door. But when Draco thought he had finally left, he heard his name. He didn't even have the strength left to curse him.

"I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. Mum got mad at me, and I think she was right. Nobody deserves to die. Even if I still think you're an asshole."

And he left. Draco snorted and flushed the toilet before attempting to stand up and head to his room where he slumped on the bed and fell asleep, not knowing if he was crying or not.


	4. Chap 4

It seemed to have been ages since he last heard someone knocking on his door. Draco had been awake for a long time but had felt no eagerness to go back downstairs. In fact, he had felt no eagerness towards anything at all aside sleeping. He didn't want to drink, he didn't want to eat, he didn't even want to talk anymore. To see someone even less. Inside, he hoped he could sit here, back to the bed's board until death would come to seek him. It looked like it was the only solution to all his problems. Meanwhile, he slept.

The shutters were closed, so he had absolutely no idea how much time had passed. Without getting out of the bed, he still noticed that food was brought on a regular basis, but he had lost count of how many plates had arrived and disappeared. Often he could hear people discuss in front of the door, but he tried to pay no attention to their voices as he knew no one would dare enter. Until someone lost it, that is.

Before he could close his eyes, pretend he hadn't heard anything and drift off to sleep again he heard the door creak to be closed swiftly seconds after. Annoyed, he growled and attempted get up in a sitting position when he heard a voice near him.

"If you scream I swear I'll hex you."

Draco was going to panic when he recognized the intonations of his interlocutor, who had, of course, decided to keep all the shutters closed and hadn't turned the light on. Bloody Weasley thinking he was in a horror movie did he. Though he found himself irritated by his presence, his body relaxed, realizing he was in no immediate danger.

"Mum's going to kill me if she knows I'm here," he complained, rubbing a hand in his red hair. "She thinks we should let you alone because you're obviously in shock and everything..."

"I never thought you brave enough to disobey to your precious mummy," he interrupted, sarcastic, though appreciating a little that Molly Weasley seemed to care about him.

"Shut up Malfoy. You can say bad things about me, but don't you dare be rude to, or about, my mother or I swear I'll make you regret your words ," the other replied harshly. "Every single one of them."

Draco resisted the urge to ask how he would be able to make him regret it, but decided it wasn't worth the taunt. Plus, he could understand, he would have picked a fight too if someone had dared say anything about his mother. Nevertheless, he decided to mark it as a special victory over the red-headed.

"Fair enough," he snorted.

The tension didn't disappear but eased. He could hear Weasley's breathing come back to its regular deep breaths. 

"So what do you want?" he eventually snarled. It wasn't actually offensive, but Draco felt tired and wanted to go back to sleep and to the silence he had become accustomed to. The sooner the better.

"Well, initially, I just-"

"Will you just get to the point, please? I don't feel like listening to your babbling all day"

Ron seemed vexed but graciously did as he was told. Surely realizing the Slytherin wasn't in the mood to wait. Behind his newfound friendliness, he must want to stay here with him as much as he wanted him to.

"Right. I'm come to ask you to be more... civil."

"Civil?"

The sarcasm in Draco's voice was hard to miss, and if Weasley was as thick about it as he was with everything else, he took the time to serve it with his most disgusted expression. _Civil_. The weasel came here to ask him to be civil. The latter sighed, and started to rub the back of his head in an embarrassed manner.

"I don't know if this is the best word I could have chosen but-"

"Well thank you, Weasley, I'm impressed, you just confirmed one of my most feared beliefs."

"I did?"

"Yes, I always thought you were just useless in class, but now I'm reconsidering the fact you're just useless in everyday life. Brilliant."

"Malfoy, please don't make it harder than it already is," he snapped. "Look, I'm trying to be nice to you, and this is how you're going to react to me?"

"Oh, and what gave you the sudden idea that I wanted you to be nice to me?"

"Things do not always happen because of you, you git. I'm not nice to you because I suddenly appreciate your divine sense of humour or anything of this sort. In fact, I'm pretty positive I don't like you and would greatly enjoy punching you in the face as a payback of everything you've ever done to us. But in case you haven't noticed yet, some things have changed. We're in a war. And now for obvious reasons, we've bound to live together for a little while. As you must have noticed, I'm not really eager to throwing a party knowing I'll have to see your ferret face for each and every morning. However, that doesn't stop me from wanting to live in a peaceful environment. There is already too much crime and violence outside. Furthermore, I think we've grown up enough to understand that some behaviours aren't suitable anymore. That's why I've come to tell you I'm willing to make efforts."

"Well, well, well. What a beautiful speech," he whistled. Although he was really impressed the ginger could turn out to be that mature, and that he did agree on certain points, he wasn't going to let him know. Even if he could consider an momentary appeasement, there was no way he could concede him the end of a war. "Did Granger write it for you?"

"Shut up Malfoy," the other growled. "I haven't finished yet." Draco arched an eyebrow while Ron cleared his throat. "I've also come to ask you to make efforts as well."

The tension was at its highest, and Draco could not help himself from letting a cracked laugh out. It ended up in a gross coughing, his throat being too dry. He grabbed the water bottle from his one-night stand and gulped down half of it before throwing his attention back at his former classmate.

"Excuse me."

"No problem."

"No I mean, _excuse me_ , what the hell are you saying?" he corrected, both annoyed and amused by the lame answer and the -now proved- slowness of the Gryffindor.

"Gosh, I totally thought you would react like that why must you always be an asshole." Draco's eyes widened as he took the blame while the other continued grunting and swearing. His question seemed to have been the limit of which the other had completely lost it. "Ok, I don't care if you don't want to be nice to me, but I want you to be at least polite when it comes to my parents or my friends."

"What about your brothers and your sister?"

"Well if you could be nice to everyone it would be brilliant, but I believe that would be a too great of an effort for you, and I don't want you to die of a fit because you're not used to being nice and it suddenly fucked up something in your constitution."

Although it was supposed to be mean, Draco snorted.

"Well then indeed, let's not take the risk."

"You really are an asshole."

"At least I'm not ginger, everyone has a weak spot."

"I could dye my hair but you'd still be stuck with your wickedness."

"True, but it would be impossible to get rid of all the freckles and I could always hide call my so called _wickedness_."

"Then fucking do it. I'm sick and tired of hearing my mother fussing over your shitty state every morning when I know you're not worth the dirt the rude wind blows in your face."

Draco was about to answer something equally cynical when understanding hit him.

"Your mother _what_?"

"I think you heard, my mother actually worries about you, despite you have twat in capital letters written on your forehead and it ripples out on your behaviour. So you'd better show her some respect because she's much more tolerant than she should be with you. So eat what she cooks you, help her, I don't know, go out of your fucking cavern, I bet that will already make her go frantic with delight. But do have some pity and stop acting like the spoiled brat you are."

He didn't know what to respond. He was trying to determine if the Gryffindor was lying, but considering the way he was entirely lost in his ranting and that lying was very un-Gryffindor like, he found himself forced to admit that Weasley's terrifying mother was maybe really concerned about him. It felt weird saying it. He was a Malfoy. Weasleys were not supposed to meddle with them, and least of all care about them. Weasley was right. Some things had changed. 

He shuffled with his crossed legs. This conversation had made him highly uncomfortable, and Ron was still listing all of his skills on being a total asshole. In fact, the whole situation looked unreal. This guy was sitting on the corner of his bed and indirectly talking to him without physically assaulting him, while he was locked in a house that was actually much safer than his own where the various people he had long despised tried being nice to him and had actually convinced him that they weren't going to harm him. His stomach stirred, and he felt a bit sick as he realized what he had always believed in was now really shattered and in pieces. He shivered a little and he pressed his lips against each other before he let out a small;

"Alright."

Ron's head snapped back at him, as if he was unsure of what he'd heard.

"What?"

"Alright, I said. I'll try to be nice and lovable like I always am, though you remarkably fail to notice it" he added, not even bothering to hide his annoyance.

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of them until Ron started shaking before bursting out in laughter. Draco sat there staring, mentally noting it seemed to be a family feature to laugh at unfunny things. 

"Sure you will." Draco could guess him widely grinning and just sat straighter before rolling his eyes.

"Well then, if you have nothing more to say as we seemed to have reached an arrangement, may I please" He insisted on the word, marking the beginning of his said redemption. "have my bed back so I can go back to sleep and try and pretend this whole exchange did not happen?"

" 'Course."

He watched as the tall ginger stood up and waited as he saw him hesitating. Then suddenly, he stretched out his hand. Draco looked at it awkwardly, almost expecting it to bite him or something. This gesture felt highly disturbing, it sent him back to his first year when he had offered his friendship to Potter but the latter rejected it for the same ginger that was standing in front of him now. Still, he grabbed hold of the hand and froze when Ron shook it before letting it go, unsure of what to do next. The other simply turned his back to him and headed for the door, taking the time to open and close it without a sound. Draco believed it was rather because of his mother than because of him. 

He fell on the pillow and drew the covers over his shoulders, shutting his eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep. But this method did not seem to work as fatigue did not come. The conversation with Weasley left him with an uneasy feeling that burned in his chest, and his guts were somewhat screaming that he had made an enormous mistake. Usually, he was right. He bit his lip, turning to the other side, trying to find sleep on the cooler side of the pillow. It was too late now; he couldn't tell Weasley he didn't want his "friendship" anymore just because he had a bad feeling about it. He snorted. It sounded ridiculous, even to him. And how could this be a mistake, his rational side asked when all he proposed was a sort of peace treaty that could only bring good to these dark times. And furthermore, did he really have a choice.

Draco shut his eyes tighter and banished all these thoughts from his head while he drifted off to sleep again.

 

The next morning - or what he thought was the next morning- Draco took on himself to get out of bed. He almost collapsed when putting feet on the floor and could only admire how much his body had grown weak by not eating properly and avoiding any physical exercise. He swore under his breath and grumbled again when his eyes fell on the clothes lying on the chair on the corner. Heavens, he couldn't believe he'd be wearing dirty clothes, what's more, the same as he'd already worn days before and that hadn't been washed. This situation was getting worse as the days passed by. At this rate he'd be begging on the streets at the end of the month. Still, as he had no other change of clothing, he reluctantly put them on and picked the plate full of untouched food as he opened the door.

The first thing he thought was that he was grateful for the crap lightening of the house. Were it a little brighter, he would have had to stop and take a moment to adapt. He hadn't opened the shutters once since he had arrived and now had to deal with the consequences. He slowly made his way down the stairs, trying not to trip and fall down and accidentally break his neck which would be a major problem when it came to socializing. Well actually maybe not. But he did try his best to avoid it anyway.

As he reached the ground, he heard stirring and talking in the kitchen, and in a manner that could almost be said as shy, he took a peak in it before entering. Mother Weasley was there, as well as Ron and the youngest Weasley, Ginny. Well. Maybe it wasn't a good idea finally. There were too many looks he had to face if he ever decided to go in. He looked down at his plate. It was still full, and the food looked pretty much appetizing, he could do with that a day or two before-

"Draco?"

A terrible crashing sound filled the house as the plate exploded on the floor, sending food over a good meter or so. Draco turned around, half furious and half surprised at the person who managed to frighten the life out of him. His heart was beating fast in his chest and he was very afraid it might just stop.

"You... ! You... you bas-"

"Oh my, what happened here? Charlie! Draco dear?! You finally came down! Why is there food everywhere? Oh and... the plate!? Merlin's beard, what happened here?!"

Draco's heart had missed several beats again when he'd heard his name called with the "dear" following. He could guess that he must be making a very strange face by the way big brother Weasley was looking at him. Either he really felt shocked or he was just weak, but he slowly felt him sway. Longing for more balanced, he caught grip on the wall and tried acknowledging everything that had happened the last thirty seconds very slowly. 

"Sorry mum, I believe it's my fault, I didn't mean to surprise him but... sorry my bad if the floor's a mess now." Charlie smiled apologetically. "I'll clean up don't worry." He got his wand out of his pocket and cast a repairing spell and when got the plate back together. He charmed a broom to pick the scraps of what used to be food up. "You ok?"

Hand still on his heart, Draco felt his eyes widening and fought against the urge to sneer and answer something that came straight from his sarcastic heart.

_Of course not you fucker, I almost died of a heart attack at seventeen just because I decided that I should try being nice to you, see where that led me fucking Weasley._

"I guess."

"Sorry for scaring you."

"I'll survive," he croaked, though not entirely convinced about that. 

"Oh Charlie, I told you not to wear your work boots when you're at home! We can't hear you coming at all! No wonder you almost surprised him!" commented Mother Weasley while reaching for Draco's shoulder where she gently patted him. "Don't worry dear, it happens to all of us, last time he almost killed me too, I was washing laundry and he just appeared out of nowhere!" She told him while he was trying to get used to the touch. No one touched him at the Manor, and such tokens of affection were severely frowned upon these times. He suddenly thought about his mother who didn't seem to care for these rules and would still take him in her arms when she could. This made him sad and he swallowed with difficulty. He wondered if she was alright. He hoped nothing bad had happened to her because of him. The sick feeling in his stomach returned. Meanwhile, Molly Weasley had turned over to her own son and had started shouting at him. "Announce yourself before stepping up behind someone for Merlin's sake!!"

"Yeah, sorry, next time I'll-"

"No, not just next time Charles Weasley, you will take these boots of immediately and put on slippers like everybody else in this household or I will teach you what the word "frightening" means!" She threatened. 

With a last look for pale Draco, Charlie disappeared in the staircase. His mother looked pleased with herself and turned back to Draco to whom she smiled.

"He's a good boy, just a bit... forgetful. But never mind, are you ok? We haven't seen you in a while; I was starting to be worri... RONALD BILLIUS WEASLEY DON'T YOU DARE SNIGGER IN MY BACK I DID NOT RAISE YOU LIKE THAT. Would you like some dinner Draco? Come, come, sit down at the table while I'll make you something good, my you look starving, have you ever eaten in the past week?? You're all skin and bones, that's not healthy at all, you really need to eat more, but we'll do our best to remedy for this later right, for now, you are going to eat everything I serve without complaining right? Right?"

Draco nodded, still unable to grasp everything. He turned to Ron and the latter nodded at him before daring to shoot him a smile, as a silent thank you. Next to him, Ginny looked confused and could not stop herself from staring at him with a stern face. He tried not to hold it against her and found himself silently looking down at the table, waiting for what he could already guess to be a mountain of food by seeing the Gryffindor's plate. By then, Charlie had come down again. After asking his mother if she could make him something too, he settled down on the chair on Draco's left. 

"I'm sorry about earlier."

"It's ok."

"I really am."

"It's ok I said." Gosh if he came back at it one more time he felt he was going to...

"I mean I-"

"Shut up," he snapped. "I don't care I said, and even if I did care like I obviously do, what do you expect to do about it? Slap you? No, so shut up and forget about it for fuck's sake."

It was only when the kitchen became very quiet that he realized what he said. Ron was staring at him and Ginny looked on her guards. He could guess her hand on her wand under the table. Charlie looked very confused. Draco opened his mouth to say something, something kind would be really nice now, but as he was going to apologize for his little slip, a sharp blow hit him on the back of his head. It wasn't very painful or hard, but he flinched. His head immediately retreated in his shoulders and teeth sank in his lips, preparing for the upcoming pain. But no blow came and when he dared to glance around, he saw the looks on the family's faces. Fear, incomprehension, before realization and... pity. If he had had all his senses no doubt he would have snarled at them, but his brain was too busy trying to deal with the imminent terror their mother suddenly inspired him.

Slowly, he turned to look at Molly Weasley looking down at him with a very serious look. He didn't dare say anything, too scared of what this terrifying woman was going to do to him. He suddenly felt sick and started anticipating some kind of pain again. That's it she was going to kill him. He hoped they wouldn't tell his mother yet. And when he was about to accept his fate and close his eyes in waiting of it, her rich voice rose in the air.

"Now Draco, I know you aren't my son or anyone merely living here, but household rules apply to everyone, and I will take no swearing under this roof, understood?" Her tone was adamant, but not threatening and wicked as he had thought it would be. "Don't I ever catch you at it again!" 

Draco thought about the gesture and had to agree as he relaxed enough to look like if he understood. More symbolical than painful, the blow had only been a warning. For his manners. He took a deep breath and tried convincing himself he wasn't in danger. Under the table, he sank his nails in his thigh's skin, hoping it would be enough to stop the trembling.

"Now eat" the woman ordered, her voice strong and determined, setting a large plate of steaming food in front of him. "Eat, and don't look at me as if I were the one going to eat you, I'm not the one who has clearly been underfed, eat at once or I promise you will hear about me."

Draco nodded automatically before making use of his knife and fork. His stomach was still tied up with the previously felt fear, but he managed to bite down three or four mouthfuls before setting down the cutlery again, making sure Molly Weasley was busy making Charlie's food.

"Eat," he heard Ron whisper to him. "Eat the whole of it now before she throws a fit about how unhealthy you look. I promise it'll be much worse."

His siblings nodded and he looked down at the overfilled plate with horror.

"I'll never make it," he lamented.

"Take small bites," Charlie advised. "And try gulping it down with water, you'll see." He presented him with a glass. Draco nodded again and attempted to take it, and he whispered again. "But mum's right you know. You really need to eat, you really don't look healthy. Your skin shines grey and see how your bones stick out." Draco looked down at his limb and even though had he been insincere, he could not have denied the Weasleys were right. Charlie nudged at his fork. "So if you don't want to eat for mum, at least eat for yourself. But in every case, you need to eat."

Draco grimaced but dared not argue, for he knew they were right. If he wanted to continue living even for a bit, he ought to try and eat healthy again. Following the big brother's advice, he managed to gulp down several other bites with some water. The fact it tasted fine helped too. Meanwhile Ginny had left the table and Charlie had been served. Ron had engaged in a conversation with his mother, about something he couldn't fully understand. He was pretty sure they were using coded language, but he didn't mind it. It was something pretty sensible to do, for even if they treated him like a human being, he could not deny he stayed a prisoner, a person whose faith was not yet very clear. But this, he tried to not think about because it wasn't worth sleepless nights.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." He shrugged before directing another full mouthful of food through his lips. He had no idea what he was eating, but the more he ate, the better it tasted. He wondered if the Weasley mother mixed magic with her ingredients.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable?"

"I'm sorry what?"

Draco put down his fork and stared at his neighbour who was staring back. His brow furrowed as he tried to remain serious and calm. What kind of person was this man, with his strange questions, and his... He seemed to be actually waiting for an answer, caring for one, and Draco found that almost unbelievable. This man was crazy. This family was crazy. 

"Are you feeling uncomfortable?" The red-headed man asked again.

"Well, if I didn't before, I certainly do now," he answered, unable to determine if he was annoyed, scared or amused. He certainly was confused. He wished the other would just continue stuffing himself with the food the plate refilled with.

"I thought so, is it because of your clothes? You don't look so fresh."

Draco almost responded that it certainly wasn't his clothes who were asking him very strange questions and invading his personal space without permission, but before he had the chance to display such sarcasm, Molly Weasley was already at him. 

"Of course! How foolish of me! Why didn't I think of it earlier, you couldn't have brought any change with you, could you. But... Ron, could you lend him something?"

"Me? cried the latter. "Mum, it's not that I don't want to..." Draco snorted and the Gryffindor shot him and ugly look. "But it won't suit him. He'd swim in it, and... it just won't do."  
"I'm afraid you're right... maybe, Charlie, you could...?"

"Charlie is even wider than I am!" Ron exclaimed pointing at them. "Mum, have you ever looked at him lately? Malfoy isn't going to swim in it, he's going to drown!"

"Yeah, but I think our height is pretty much the same, and the rest I can maybe just with a small charm. Yeah," he repeated. "I think I could have two or three spare things I could lend you in the meantime."

"Oh, that would be so nice of you honey."

Draco was honestly starting to believe everything was just a gigantic sketch and that when he would have sunk deep into believing this set, reality would come and hit him hard. Maybe he was hallucinating. Dreaming, though less likely. Or maybe he was just dead, and the afterlife was just as much as a nightmare as real life was. But, like, honestly, who called their grown up children these ridiculous names. How could someone be that... nice? Cheesy? He didn't know, but everyone seemed to be completely nuts here, he wondered if living at St Mungo's wasn't just an exact replica of what he had to handle right now. 

However, he made sure to keep these thoughts to himself, and followed the weasel's brother as he almost dragged him up the stairs until they reached the second floor. At least that saved him from finishing his plate. While Draco expected him to push open the door to the room they had to lend him and that he could now as well consider as his own, Charlie opened the neighbouring one, and the Slytherin found him startled. During his stay, he hadn't even considered the idea someone might be having the room next to his. Unaware of the other's thoughts, Charlie opened wide his wardrobe and extracted from a large pile what seemed to be a simple T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Draco tried his best to hide his disgust. Muggle clothing. No formal robes. And chances were they were second-hand clothes. He shivered, contemplating the idea of maybe keeping his present clothes.

"Try these on. I'll wait outside, just knock when you've changed."

He knew he made a face, but nodded. Ok now, so he was stuck. Trying not to think too much about it, Draco slipped the clothes on. They were indeed too large, especially around the waist and the arms. The material was rugged, and he could easily guess these clothes had been worn more than a couple of times.

_Of course_ , reminded him a voice in his head. _It's the Weasleys, they don't have any money for spare clothes._

He snapped at himself, doing his best to keep these thoughts out of his head. He heard a knock, and he went to open the door to let Charlie in.

"Yeah, definitely too large. But..." He drew out his wand, and with a few muttered words in the stubbles of his jaw, he could feel the material shrink and adapt itself to his thin frame. "There." He stepped back and examined him with a satisfied smirk. He shifted, feeling once again uncomfortable. Before he had the chance to say anything to break the silence, Charlie's voice filled the air. "You look nice." 

If it wasn't very rude, Draco would have gasped and exposed to him one of his fingers. Preferably the middle one. Instead, he stood still, cheeks hot. What in Merlin's name could you answer to that?

"Well, tha-"

"Hey sexy."

The female voice made him snap around. His eyes widened and not caring anymore what was rude and what wasn't, he gasped. He turned back to Charlie to ensure he wasn't dreaming or hadn't had a fit, but the way the Weasley was staring at her he knew he wasn't the only one to have noticed her presence. He turned again to gauge her, his brains unable to process the information. Eventually after what seemed to have been hours, he suddenly managed to make out the newcomer's name and was impressed by how normal he sounded comparing to the shock he felt inside. 

" _Pansy_? What the fuck?"


	5. Chap 5

Draco couldn't recall every single circumstance that led him to being here, surrounded by a crowd that could not have been more heterogeneous in appearance. Yet, here he was. He let his fingers slightly tap on the wood, feeling almost bored about this situation. It was the third time -or maybe the forth? He wasn't exactly sure- that he had an important conversation around this table. It was quite a few if you asked him. He felt he almost could get used to discovering strange things, like, ok, in the last days he had been kidnapped by friendly gingers, including one that was extremely strange, he had been called pet names by a women he had always despised and now after having been complimented by the said strange man, he found that his friend was also staying in this mad house? Like, ok, what next? Saint Potter revealed being a professional gardener? Ok, no problem, he could take it, bring it on.

But now he just sighed, realizing he was going to face people and their stories again. Fuck Weasley, next time he'd stay in bed and sleep until death would stop to claim him. His gaze fell on Pansy who was checking her perfectly trimmed nails, looking on the verge of dying of boredom and a brief smile shone on his face. It's not that he didn't like her, on the contrary. If it were a normal situation he'd be in, he was positive he would have been delighted to see her. But now... Draco couldn't feel anything other than confusion. Everything seemed far too awkward to be real and Pansy's sudden arrival didn't help him figure out anything about where his life was going.

"So... Correct me if I'm wrong." He started slowly, trying to recall what had been said over the past minutes by a heavily stuttering Ronald. "You... found? Pansy. Right. On the... streets? But Lupin told you to... help? Whereas you wouldn't and she was there in the streets because she was caught stealing...? You brought her back here on order of... Shacklebolt?" The red-haired nodded approvingly though seeming even more confused than he was. Pansy was sniggering, Ginny was looking at the table, and Charlie just... was as he always seemed to be. "Weasley you do _realize_ this doesn't make any sense, do you?" He finally burst out. 

"Well, actually, it's..."

"My mother tried to kill me."

Four pair of eyes snapped to look at Pansy who was still inspecting her nails, as if what she had said had been totally natural.

"Pansy!" Ron growled. Draco was impressed about how the ginger seemed about to jump at her and strangle her just by the way he was looking at her. He easily deduced that she had been here far longer than he would have thought, and that this wasn't the first time they had a conversation. Interesting. Did the truce resolutions not apply to her, or was she just being Pansy? "You weren't supposed to-"

"To what? Tell the truth?" She didn't even look up, but Draco could hear she was starting to be annoyed as well. Definitely had already spend some time with Weasley, and it wasn't going well. "Isn't it funny? You, _Ronald_ , perfect little Gryffindor, encouraging me, an equally perfect Slytherin, to lie? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Are you not ashamed of yourself?" Her tone was smooth and superbly slow, but striking, like a snake. Draco saw Weasley's eye light up in anger. "Anyway, you're just so bad at lying, that there was nothing else left to do. Whatsmore, I'd appreciate if you had a little bit more consideration for Draco, he is not as stupid as you want him to be. Plus, he's my best friend; don't Potter and Granger realize when you lie to them?" She taunted. "No? Oh. So sorry. Your life really does suck. That's maybe why they left you here. Are you sure they really want to be your be-"

"Pansy," he interrupted before she could continue any more.

This time she raised her glance and he slowly shook his head. Her brow furrowed but she didn't make any notices, and resumed in her inspecting her manicure. She must have also thought that starting a fight with a family she seemed to live with now wasn't the best integration plan.

"Did your mother really...?" he tried, still unable to proceed the information and trying to recenter the conversation. Gosh, who would ever have thought of him as a peacekeeper.

"Yeah."

Draco could perfectly recall Mrs Parkinson. He had met her several times within the years they were at school and she had always seemed a bit disturbing. Taller than her daughter and him as well, she had a very angular face and long dark hair that swooped around her hips. He had never spoken any more to her than what politeness required of him, and had always thought of her as very silent, though sometimes severe from what he had heard from her daughter at school. And now he had to deal with the image of her trying to murder his friend. This was insane.

"Why would the ministry not want me to know that?"

"It's not the ministry, believe me they don't have time for this shit. But yes, I'm asking myself the same question, why would you have to not know. What are your thoughts on the matter _Ronald_? I'd be delighted to hear them, maybe you do know better. There's a first time for everything. Isn't there?"

This was direct provocation and the red-haired jumped on the occasion to put up a fight. Draco closed his eyes and massaged his temples, trying to forget that Pansy had violently punched the Gryffindor in the face and that Ginny was now threatening her with her wand as if his friend would actually care about it. There were screams, threats, and he hoped it would not expand to tears too. 

Meanwhile, Charlie was still on his side, watching, looking interested. The Slytherin really wondered why he had to put up with all of this.

 

"Say."

Pansy smiled as she looked up at him. Draco waited for her to close the book she was reading in order to give him her full attention. After the little unplanned meeting and brawl in the kitchen, both Slytherins had been advised to go back to their rooms. They had gone to Draco's and hadn't moved since what seemed to have been a while. He knew because of the embarrassing growling his stomach had expressed at some point. He was twice as impressed when he'd remembered all he had eaten at noon. Pansy had just thrown a chocolate frog at him.

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Told you," she shrugged. "Care to hear it again?"

"I'd rather say I care to hear the whole story instead of incoherent parts."

"Draco."

His gaze flickered and again he was staring in his friend's green eyes, waiting for an answer. She hesitated, her lips parting as if she was giving in and going to explain, but she redeemed and shook her head.

"I don't want to speak about it. At least not now. Anyway, why does it matter so much to you? Can't you just appreciate my presence? Or maybe you want to know because you're not happy about my being here and want to send me back."

"Don't be silly," he snorted.

"Really Draco, you should have told me back in first year that you fancied Weasley for yourself," she smirked. "It's ok, I can accept that. I promise I won't interrupt if you ever decide to make a move. Actually, I could help, though I'm sorry to inform you I'm pretty sure he fancies women."

"Oh, have you gone this far in investigation then?" He teased, allowing a genuine smile to stretch his lips.

In fact, as far as he could recall, it was one of the first smiles he had conceded yet. He excused it with the thought it was because for the first time since a while, he had someone whom he trusted next to him, and they could exchange on other things than dark matters. He found out he was grateful Pansy had cleverly changed the subject, even if it now turned around one of them having a thing for a Gryffindor. Although he was curious about what had happened, if it hurt talking about it, he could wait. Unlike what Weasley and his little friends liked to believe, he was no cruel person, and respected his companions.

"Well, at least I don't recall receiving fishy compliments from a red-headed," she sniffed.

He rolled his eyes, understanding they had skipped from Ron to Charlie.

"He didn't mean it in that way."

"Yeah, sure."

"This guy is just plain weird," Draco shrugged. "He's been acting like that since I'm here. I reckon the best way of dealing with him is to let him talk and not bother being surprised anymore."

"This is sooo an unhealthy manner of dealing with love Draco," she smirked.

He just shrugged again before his gaze drifted to the wallpaper. Arguing on this kind of things with Pansy never went anywhere, and when he dared, she got carried away and bad things started happening to him shortly after. So he just let her talk. At least it would distract her from potentially harmful stuff she could be thinking were she not busy filling his inexistent love life. Not like if he cared much anyway.

"I'm hundred percent sure you've got it all wrong. But if he ever starts dropping hints, I'm counting on you to identify them and analyze them before bringing them to me so I can happily send him away."

"Oh Draco." she sighed.

"What."

"Weasleys are purebloods."

"Nicely observed Pans', but I have to add they are poor, and mostly boys. Men cannot breed with other men, I figured you'd know, however I may have been a little too optimistic."

"Don't be stupid!" She shoved him with her book. "Of course I do know."

"Then why are we still discussing the matter?" his tone full of himself.

"You've never been in love, have you?"

"Thank Merlin no."

"It's not something you can control." she informed him, looking pretty strange. But he decided to ignore it, and shrugged in a know-it-all way.

"Well then everything's as it should be, for I don't see in how it would serve my purposes."

"Just for that, I hope one day you'll fall in love so hard you won't be able to remember anything else."

"You won't be alive to see that." he smirked.

She raised her eyebrows in a knowing gesture and he simple shook his head. They enjoyed the silence for a moment again before his voice broke the peaceful atmosphere.

"How long have you been here?"

"Haven't exactly counted you know."

"Give me an idea."

"Well... when I arrived, my hair was here." She motioned towards her shoulders. Draco eyes widened. Now her black hair reached towards the beginning of her breasts. "So it's been a moment you see."

"You're working for them?"

"I prefer the term _with_ them. And it's not exactly as if I like it, more as if I have to."

"Why so?"

"Common sense." she shrugged and opened her book to resume her reading. Draco understood this would be the end of the conversation, at least for today. He stretched on the bed and soon, his back lay flat on the covers. He closed his eyes, allowed his body to relax, and soon Pansy could hear a light snoring. This made her smile. 

 

He woke up to a loud cry. He sat up, startled, looking for Pansy in the room, and found her sitting where he had left her. She was looking at the door, a sign that this wasn't something that should have happened. He shifted on the bed, and went to stand next to her, eyes asking her what they should do. 

"Do you have a wand?"

"Yep."

"Shall we go down and look?"

"Only if you care."

They reached for the doorknob and silently entered the corridor. The noise continued downstairs, and, Pansy took the main lead as they went down the stairs. It creaked, and Draco had to hide his annoyance. This wasn't discreet at all. Really not. If this turned out to be unexpected dangerous visitors, the stairs would definitely be a hindrance. Luckily for them, as they approached, the voices became clearer, and they could identify Ron's wailing, and Charlie's and Ginny's panicked voices. Pansy frowned, but put her wand down and pushed the door of a living room the place offered. Ron was sat on the sofa, his horribly pale features contrasted with the terrible red hair. He seemed to be doing the best he could in order to keep calm, and keep his whimpers low. Ginny was crouching next to him, speaking very quickly, obviously trying to keep him from fainting or what so ever. Or just to reassure him, Draco could not tell. Charlie was quickly turning the pages of a book. This scene could have looked normal, if not the blood stains that could be seen under Ronald's ragged shirt.

"What the...?"

"We were seen, when we were in town, they saw us, and, and Ron..." Ginny wasn't making any sense. Her brain couldn't seem to sum the situation up, and didn't even look back to see to whom she was talking. Either she had recognized them by their voices, or either she was too shocked to care anymore with her brother emptying himself of his blood right beside her. Draco could understand this.

"He got hit by a curse, and can't stop bleeding since" explained Charlie without looking up either. He flipped the pages angrily before stopping. Draco could see a fire burn in his eyes when he looked up. He could feel him glancing right next to him.

"Pansy we need your help." He ran to her and forced the book in her hands. "This potion could help him for the moment, and could stop the bleeding until Bill arrives."

Draco frowned, lost. Who was _Bill_? Pansy looked taken aback. 

"You trust _me_ to do this? Do you remember the last potion I made?" The room fell silent, apparently recalling the memory. Ron turned only paler, if possible, and even Ginny had stopped babbling and was considering the situation. If the situation wasn't that terrible, Draco would have laughed. He didn't know what potion she was talking about, but he knew all about her so called skills at potions. Charlie came back to his sense of emergency quickly enough.

"Maybe, but now is not the moment to think about what happened another time. And we don't have any choice, Ron is bleeding to death, Ginny is in shock, and I was always shit at potions! Pansy! Please!"

She was unexpectedly pale, and hesitated for a moment before her voice was finally heard again. "Draco could do it."

"What?"

"He's better at potions than I ever was, twice as better. He could do it" she insisted. Pansy turned to face him. "Draco, you could do it."

"Wha-"

"Please Draco, if you can, please, do it." Draco's eyes widened as he felt Charlie taking his hand with pleading eyes. Ginny stared at him, but he could read the despair in her eyes, and Ron... seemed terrified about the idea of having to leave his life in his hands - he was right- , although he did realize that it would be worse than not doing anything. However when their glances locked, the Gryffindor slowly nodded. Charlie was still cupping his hand.

Damn these people. Damn Pansy. Damn them all. 

 

"Draco?"

"What?" he snapped. 

It was hot in the room, very hot. Draco couldn't help the sweat but to continue trickling down his brow as he was brewing the potion the Gryffindor needed in order to stop the hemorrhage. And he didn't like it, for various reasons. The first one was undoubtfully because he was doing this for Weasley. Even though they had negotiated a kind of "peace pact", he was still a Weasley, a ginger Gryffindor. Secondly, he had found himself to have become clumsy. He made rookie errors in the choice or the order of the ingredients, and it was very frustrating to acknowledge that he, the best that ever was in potions - even better than Granger- had lost a lot of practice. This infuriated him deeply inside. And thirdly, he hated being watched while he worked.

He threw a death glare towards Charlie Weasley, hoping the message would be clear enough so he would either go or shut up. 

"Is everything alright?"

"Of course everything is alright, look, nothing exploded. Yet." he muttered the last word though his gritted teeth while adding three thin mandragore leaves."How's he doing?" he added.

Draco would be lying if he said he wasn't a little bit anxious over the ginger's fate. Pansy had gone to help Ginny find clothes to bind Ronald's chest in order to prevent most of the blood from spilling, but Draco knew only too well that it wouldn't help long if it was a powerful spell. 

"Not good, but he's hanging on."

You didn't need to be an expert to sense the urgency in his older brother's voice. He was trying his best to remain calm, as the only adult here present, but obviously had a hard time to do so. With time Draco had become good at reading people's behaviour. 

"It's going to be ready in a few moments. I just need to add two more ingredients and then stir it three times out of the fire and it should turn into a kind of ointment. It won't be perfect, I've never done this before, but I hope it'll do." 

"Thank you. I really appreciate what you're doing for us."

"I don't think I care" he lied. "It's not like I have a choice anyway. Do I?"

Charlie took a moment before answering, and his answer came in a tone of voice that didn't have anything to do with the previous grateful one. He seemed... disappointed.

"No you're right."

"I know, I'm often right. Here."

Draco lifted the miniature cauldron off the fire and added the last touch before stirring it the right manner. The mixture had nothing to do with its first watery consistency and now looked like yellow paste.

"I think it might be a little hot but he won't feel it with all the pain he's already in. You should put on gloves though." he warned as Charlie approached. Without missing a beat he plunged his hands in the pot and taking a lump of the yellowish paste, hurried out of the room. Draco lifted an eyebrow before following him with gloves and the still fuming pot. "You're welcome _Charles_ , for always listening so _carefully_ to what I'm saying" he mumbled. 

When he entered the room, Charlie was already generously applying the medicine on his brother's torso. He searched for Pansy, and found her in the corner of the room looking far too concerned and anxious. He noticed one of her perfectly manicured was being nibbled and felt bad for her. She must have seen horrible things to react like that to the view of blood and someone suffering. At this thought, he felt a bit sick but shook his head and trying to concentrate on something else. Kneeling next to Charlie who rewarded him by a silent thank you, he handed him the pot. When he turned to face Weasley, his older brother had already started to apply some more. For a second Ronald almost looked like he was covering in honey, but the pain on his face reminded him of what it was pretty quickly.

"How are you faring?" Draco asked. He was ready to do anything to forget what was really happening, even if it meant holding a conversation with a Gryffindor. Ronald glared at him.

"Fine, why are you asking?" he answered through gritted teeth. 

"You don't look fine."

"No shit Sherlock!"

"What's a Sherlock. And you shouldn't swear. Your mother will hear about this."

"Well I'm sure she'll let me have an exemption this time."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure Malfoy now if you mind sod off!"

"You shouldn't move too much, let alone agitate yourself too much. The paste shouldn't move so it can really absorb as much magic as it can, so if you move you'll continue to bleed, it's as simple as it is."

"He's right Ron" joined Charlie. "You shouldn't move."

Ronald's eyes shot him daggers before swooping the room. 

"Where's Gin?"

"I made her leave. She's in shock. Seeing you like this doesn't help." stepped in Pansy.

Ron's gaze lingered on her a few seconds before a shot of pain held his eyes closed. Draco stood up and found a place next to Pansy. He slipped his hand in hers and squeezed. She addressed him a small smile as to tell him everything was okay before her grave expression returned. Hopefully Bill would come quickly.


	6. Chap 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I've been very caught up with uni things lately, and it's not going to get better in the times to come... I will however keep on writing whenever I can!

Pansy didn't have the decency to knock when she barged in Ron's room. She noticed he looked like he had just been brutally awoken, and smiled. Leaning against the wall next to the small night-stand, she addressed him in the sultriest voice she could produce. 

"How are you doing dear?"

"Piss off."

"That's not a nice thing to say to a lady."

"I'm not sure we actually have anything _nice_ to tell one another."

"I think it's sad how limited imagination you have. I can totally imagine us become... what was it you told Draco? Civil?"

She smiled, amused, as he grunted and let himself fall back on his pillows. A cup of water sat on the night-stand, along with a small vial in which a potion probably slept. 

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"Oh just... checking."

"If I'm dead yet?"

"Not at the moment" she promised. "Maybe when I'll stop finding you funny."

"Didn't know it'd be my sense of humour that made me likeable in your eye" he ironized.

"Likeable is a strong word Ronald. I'd use pitiful, but then..."

"By Merlin, just leave already will you. I'm too tired for this. I'll even beg you if I have to if this is what you want," he wailed.

Pansy just smiled again and came to sit down on the edge of the bed. The Gryffindor looked bewildered. Happy with the effect she created, she smiled even more brightly. She loved confusing men, especially the sweet innocent Gryffindor ones. 

"Please stop smiling, it's getting scary."

"Don't you like my smile? You should be honoured; most of the people who have seen it aren't alive to tell the story anymore."

"So you really want me dead do you. Funny, it's not what I thought seeing you yesterday. You almost looked worried for me."

For a second Pansy lost her perfect composure and whitened. Not long enough to give the ginger the satisfaction to see it thought. Soon enough, her face was ornate with her beautiful impassive smile.

"Funny" she started. "I wouldn't have thought receiving a spell in the chest also made you go absolutely bonkers. But actually, is that really different from before?"

"Deny it as much as you want Parkinson. But I might as well tell you now, no I will not go out with you. You're not my type." he smirked, leaving her slightly offended. 

"Believe me Ronald Weasley, I am very thankful you won't, and hope to never see it happen in my living. And judging by your present state, you won't be alive long enough to see it happen anyway."

"Oooh, have I hurt your feelings?" he cooed. 

Pansy shot him a dark look before standing up and smoothened the folds of her dress. She was about to make it to the door in order to join Draco in whatever he was doing to make time go quicker in this madhouse when Ron called again.

"Hey Parkinson."

"What is it Weasley? Are you dying yet?"

"Thanks."

"For what. Standing here watching you suffer? No need to thank me I assure you it was one of the highlights of my poor life."

"For lying to Draco."

She turned back and shot him a bored look.

" 'S not like I had a choice anyway. It wasn't in my favour to tell the truth. Also you lie like a three year old. It made me sad. You should pick up some practice. Now if you'll excuse me I'll cry myself to sleep regarding your heart-breaking rejection." she dramatized. 

"Sure. Tell me how it goes." the Gryffindor smirked.

"Count on me." she aswered in the same manner.

 

Draco was roaming through the house. The clean tapestry had gotten him rather intrigued, and it wasn't like he was confined in his room or had anything interesting to do. He had no idea where Pansy had gone, but he knew she liked disappearing at random moments. She used to do that back at Hogwarts. Hid from everyone for an hour or two, claiming she had business to do. Draco suspected she just wanted to make herself more desirable, but never dared to ask. 

As he followed the dark corridors, tip of the fingers absently tracing the wallpaper's patterns, he couldn't help but to think about his parents and even Hogwarts. The happy Hogwarts. It seemed like ages ago. The Hogwarts where he could still act freely, without each move or bad decision providing consequences he couldn't control. His throat locked as he gulped. He sincerely hoped his parents where okay. He stopped in his tracks and looked at his trembling hand. He swore at himself (not very loudly though, in case Mrs Weasley was coming his way) and urged his body to find some self-control. He couldn't blame himself for panicking, but as he couldn't do much in his position he tried to think about it as less as possible. Absolutely wanting to distract himself from harmful thoughts, he pushed the first door he could find. 

The room was huge. Far bigger than Draco could have imagined, having been accustomed to the narrow corridors and rooms he had already seen throughout his stay. With a little grin he wondered is the charm used to enlarge the space was legal. Not that it really mattered in the end. What also surprised him was the luminosity. The house wasn't really bright in general. Big chandeliers would provide a majestic effect but little luminosity. In this room however lamps could be seen here and there, and the different choice of wallpaper also proved to be useful. Instead of greyish highlights, a beige colour illustrated the walls and, as always, what seemed to be green ivy crept through them. But more impressive than the walls, what startled Draco was the enormous bookshelves that stole all the attention. It wasn't as big as the one they had in the Manor, but it was still something. He approached slowly. As he had done in by the walls in the corridor, he let his hand brush against the thick spines while he had a look at the different titles. Another grin crept on his face as he told himself that, for a somewhere were people were all about tolerance and love, this house sure held a big number of books preaching about blood purity. He kept these in mind, and moved to another shelf.

This one made him frown. On this section only books that would have made it in the restriction section at Hogwarts were sitting on the shelves. He dared not touch one, however the titles told it all. Murder, rituals, curses, everything a dark wizard would have loved to know. He felt his crazy aunt Bellatrix would have liked them. They gave him shivers. 

"We should have burnt them some time ago."

Startled, Draco turned around to see Charlie watching him by the door. 

"Sorry did I scare you?"

He didn't even take the time to answer and turned back again to face the books. For a reason he couldn't grasp, he felt extremely annoyed by Ronald's older brother's presence. 

"Draco? Are you okay?"

"I didn't know the deal with me staying here also included you to follow me around." he shot, pretending to inspect the books with great interest. 

"I just wanted to thank you for what you did for Ron. If you hadn't been here, by the time Bill arrived who knows in what state would have he been."

"I know you already told me." He bit his lip, trying to repress the number of times he did indeed remind him. A lot. This guy was really weird, like really really weird, he had misjudged him.

"You know Draco..."

"What? I already know you're grateful, so if you want to tell me again, please go tell Pansy. No actually don't tell Pansy." he mumbled. "It would make it worse."

"I like you."

"What."

His jaw had dropped and his face flushed in confusion. _What_. What the fuck. Was he mental. Oh Merlin he was crazy. Why was it always to him that these things happened. Why was he always surrounded by stupid or crazy people. He felt like crying. Where was fucking Pansy when we needed her. Pansy help. He turned around to look at the ginger freckle covered man, not caring much if the look of absolute horror on his face was off-putting.

"Are you fucking crazy?" he screeched.

"I think you're a good person" shrugged Charlie. "I was always told the worst horrors about you but decided to judge by myself and I actually like you, to Ron's disappointment."

Draco's heart begun to beat again when he heard he liked him as a person and not in another creepy way, but the blush stayed on his cheeks. He could feel its warmth. Damn his pale skin. He didn't really know what to add to that. In fact, he really wanted away right now. Find Pansy. Rant in her arms. He had a shitty life, he deserved a hug. And would Pansy admit it or not, she was pretty good at hugging.

"I'm very happy to hear you think I'm a good person," he stuttered starting to make his way towards him and the door. "But I really need to see Pansy now so if you would excuse me." It took immense concentration not to look at him, especially as he had to pass next to him to reach the corridor.

"You don't think you're a good person, do you?"

"No I don't."

He didn't even need to hesitate. His presence was making him very uncomfortable and he really wanted to leave now. Plus, he really didn't want to have this conversation right now. Or ever. He didn't care if he was a good person or not, this wasn't what mattered in the world. Good person or not, the only thing you really had to care about is money, because everyone dies in the end. Money was useful to help you choose the way you'd die; in squalor and misery, or in satin sheets. However now, even money couldn't help you choose the way you'd die. It didn't matter if you were a good person or not. In the end the only thing you'll ever get is your name engraved on a stone.

Before the ginger had the time to add anything even slightly weird, he pushed him aside and rushed back to his room. 

 

"Are you sure you have to go?" 

"Stop whining Draco."

"I'm not whining."

"And I'm fucking Sanguini."

"I'll respect every choice of your but this one..."

"Shut up."

Pansy shot him a deadly glance before shrinking another dress and packing it in her pockets.

"Where did you get the idea for that?"

"Believe it or not, Granger. And before you can say anything, no, I don't like Granger, and I never will, but you'll have to admit that she has some good ideas. Pretty sure it's to make up for this ugly face of hers."

Draco half-smiled and rolled her eyes. 

"Did you see Granger since you were here?"

"Nah, but Ronald told me about that."

"I didn't know you two were sharing secrets."

"Oh, _please_." Pansy had turned over to face him, and boredom would be read on her face. "It's because he's stupid enough to get cursed that I need to, I quote, _fulfill my mission_. Also known as, risk my life so I can eat and stay here. I think that's hardly a fair deal, but to be honest, mama Weasley does know how to cook. I wonder how she gave birth to such an idiot, did I tell you the time he tried to poison me with an omelet? I locked him in the basement for an hour or two afterwards."

Draco smiled completely that time and gave her a poke.

"You really do only have his name on your lips."

"Merlin save me Draco. You really are stupid." she replied, sighing deeply.

"When will you return?" he suddenly asked, feeling like a change of subject would be a good idea. 

"Hopefully, soon. This house might smell as bad as it looks, but at least I can walk to the kitchen without worrying about being killed."

He snorted and she hit him. It almost looked like they were back to the good old times.

 

It had been a few days since Pansy was gone. Draco had survived the first days fine, but now was starting to get bored. He tried to avoid Charlie as much as possible, but it hadn't been that difficult. He suspected him to have left with Pansy. He had to admit he would be surprised if that was the case, for he had really ended up believing this kid was just part of the tapestry here. So either he had left, either he was hiding from him after what happened before. Both situations meant nothing to Draco, even thought he could feel the pleasure in what Pansy would have called "walking to the kitchen without worrying about being killed". He knew -and hoped- Charlie wouldn't kill him, but now Pansy was gone there was nobody here to stop him from being overly dramatic. Except maybe the still disabled Gryffindor. 

Mrs Weasley had asked him to bring him food from time to time, and he had shrugged before accepting. Apparently there was no one else who stayed permanently here and they dared not take Ron back to the Burrow. Draco could understand why, if he was wanted by Death Eaters, they had all the reasons in the world to keep him hidden in this secret house. 

He had given up on visiting the rest of the house, his curiosity quenched for the moment, and spent the most of his time in the library. From time to time he went to see if Ronald was still alive, and brought him food when he complained too much. His eating habits left few to imagination to his greatest regret but at least it made him shut up. But otherwise his days were spent reading. Draco was generally impressed about how much he found out he could read. Not that he exactly liked reading, that which he was impressed by himself. But he had found out that it helped make time go faster, and moreover prohibited him from thinking too much about his parents, or his wandless situation. Dark bags now contrasted with his pale skin, as his nights were full of nightmares of the war, of his past deeds, and of his dead parents. The fact nobody bothered giving him insight on what was happening behind his prison's door didn't help. He could try to block these thoughts during the day, reading his eyes out, but at night he became captive of the whispers in his head, murmuring him the worst. Time passed, but this pattern stuck, and he begun to pray for Pansy's return as much as he did for his parents' safety.

When his ex-teacher professor Lupin burst in the room, he was sitting on the library's floor. 

"Enough is enough Malfoy!"

Draco just had the time to process the information and feel startled when he was faced with a wand. He instantly blemished. His book fell on the ground and an unpleasant chill crept through his back. Lupin bore a wild expression and his face was distorted in features he never thought he would see on someone usually kind. 

"Enough."

His eyes were wide and still squinting on the wand a few inches away from his nose. Draco felt small on the ground next to the scarred man he knew to be a werewolf. He wondered how long ago the full moon was. He wondered if it was tonight. Was it this way they wanted him to die? He felt scared, and the nasty feeling he had when he was forced to stand near Greyback made his hands tremble. He felt like a prey, and felt stupid. Until now he thought he'd be safe here. It was obvious people he had maltreated for years would not keep him safe. Thoughts were rushing in his head but Lupin spoke again, interrupting the flow of them.

"It's been weeks now Draco." He sounded calmer than when he entered, but Draco could still feel the icy threat lying behind every of his words. "Weeks. Molly had been kind to you, we have all been kind to you, because we had no choice but to keep you here. But we wished for you to give us some information, you see, to help win the fight that is tearing the wizarding world apart at the moment. Not a big deal, I'm sure you will notice."

The Slytherin became paler, if even possible. Lupin could be choking him with his bare hands at the moment it wouldn't be worse. He would have much preferred direct insults than sarcasm. Sarcasm was dangerous. Just as dangerous as the wand still facing him, ready to fire any spell that would cause him to be torn apart.

Lupin smiled. A wolf smile.

"I'm sure you will also understand why I, I mean we, are becoming slightly impatient. You maybe detain information that would come out handy for us, and maybe save some lives. However, and this is where our conflict starts, you deliberately wish to keep them away from us."

"He-He'll kill me if he founds out. Me and my family" he blurted as something, he hoped, would sound like an excuse. A pitiful excuse, but something he thought Lupin could understand. It didn't work. In fact, it had the opposite effect.

"And how many do you think will die because of you?" he spat. Draco thought he almost heard a growl escaping his lips. If he wasn't afraid enough before, he was now. "Molly said we should wait until you want to and feel ready for it, but I believe we don't have the luxury of waiting anymore. Now, I'm sure you'll forgive me later, if any of us survive the war so that is. _Legilimens_."

Immediately Draco sensed him pushing the barriers of his mind. Panic made him lose control for a second, and an image of his mother flashed. It was all it took for him to regain his spirits. A new wall was built and soon he was looking at Lupin in the eyes. The ex-professor looked at him, bewildered. His brow furrowed and he took a step back before yelling again.

" _Legilimens_!"

Draco felt his back thrust back against a bookshelf and a few books fall. The other was no longer taping at the door of his head, he was ramming into it. He was conscious of his blood pounding hard in his temple and resisted the urge to message it with his hand. Instead, he grabbed the shelves to find some support. And he held his ground. There was no way he was letting him in. No way. 

On the other hand however, he could see Lupin become more and more frustrated, trying the spell again and finally letting a cry when he realized it was not working. His eyes were furious, even if Draco could spot a glint of curiosity. It seemed to displease him even more. Before he could do anything, Lupin had seized him by the collar of his shirt.

"What did you do?"

"I-I-I..."

"HOW!"

" _Remus_!"

A feminine voice made both heads turn. Lupin immediately released Draco and stood up straight. He could see his features softening, and stared at the new character with a mix of fright and interest.

"Stop it, please" supplied a women with short pink hair. Draco couldn't tell what made her familiar. She had no reason to be, he had never seen her before, and yet... something didn't add up. His focus next went to her stomach. She was pregnant.

"You know we can't afford to wait until everyone is dead Tonks" he huffed.

"I know but... This won't solve anything. Molly said to wait and you know it."

Draco was surprised by the authoritarian tone in her voice and how it seemed to work for Lupin. A wild thought crossed his mind. Could she be? No that was stupid. Nobody would want a werewolf for a husband. They were dangerous beasts. Nobody would want that, especially if they were expecting children. And she looked far too young for him. His trail of thought got lost again as he watched Lupin resign himself and walk slowly to her before taking her hand. He stared, astonished, before Lupin shot him a last look. He was surprised to see most of the anger was gone.

"We'll have talk about this again Malfoy, I hope you understand that." He saw her nudge him in the ribs and he flinched before continuing. "Ouch. Hum. I know we're in dark times and ... Okay, okay stop." he said to the woman who was crushing his foot with hers, before addressing to Draco again, teeth clenched together. "But I'm sorry it was not correct of me to do that."

"Thank you" She smiled a pressed her lips on his cheek. She then shot a smile at the young boy. "See ya." And they were gone. 

Draco stayed seated on the floor for a moment before slowly getting up. He headed straight for the kitchen. He needed some tea. Firewhisky tea. And to barricade his door.


	7. Chap 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys it's pretty short compared to others, but I thought here was a good place to cut!

It wasn't hard to know when Pansy was back. The shrill shriek she let out was a big give-away. Draco doubted anyone else could scream like that. Although the last week he had been careful not to spend too much time out of his bedroom to avoid any human interaction -except Ronald's, Merlin kill him, he was worse maintenance than a pet-, when he heard her he immediately decided it might be worth exiting his shelter. He had no trouble finding the origin of the scream, for it became stronger every step he took. 

"YOU DID _WHAT_ , DOG?"

These words made Draco hurry. It looked bad. Very bad. When he stumbled in the living room, Ronald and Charlie were desperately trying to hold Pansy back while she was screaming her lungs out at Lupin. The latter was surrounded by Mrs Weasley and her husband. Draco wondered where the pink haired girl had gone, but another screech by Pansy made him concentrate on the present incident.

"YOU FUCKING PROMISED!"

"Calm down Pansy" warned Mrs Weasley.

"HOW DO YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN? HE ATTACKED DRACO WHILE YOU ALL GAVE ME YOUR WORD HE'D BE SAFE. YOU'RE ALL ROTTEN LIARS!"

"Pansy, I told you, I apologized and I regret what happened. It's my fault, you are allowed to be mad, however I will ask you to forgive me nonetheless."

"But Remus..."

"Molly she's right" he half-smiled. "We all promised to leave Draco the time he needed and I... overreacted to the news and thought..."

"What news?"

All heads turned to look at Draco who stood by the door. To his biggest surprise he understood nobody had heard him coming. But again, was it really a surprise when you experienced Pansy's high volume screaming?

"Draco!" she cried. Brutally indicating the Weasley brothers to let her go, she rushed by his side and hugged him tight. Now it was his turn to be surprised. She usually never let anyone see her soft side in public. He awkwardly tried to pat her on the back before focusing on the adults again.

"What news?"

"Draco dear, how are you?" cooed Mrs Weasley. He noticed she didn't approach. He wondered if it was because of bashfulness or because she dared not while Pansy was here, and near him.

"Stop asking nobody will answer you" she snickered in his ear, loud enough for the rest to hear it though. "You-know-who has been winning important victories recently and Hogwarts is only a dark shadow of what it used to be. Oh, also, the Ministry has completely fallen under the hands of the Death Eaters. Oups" she turned to face the others. "Did I say too much? I'm so _sorry_." Her wicked smile revealed she wasn't sorry at all, rather proud and still very angry. "What should we do now then? He knows more than you wanted him to know. Should we kill him? Seems like a good idea. Maybe Lupin wants to start with the execution. Or has he already?"

"Young lady!" Mr Weasley seemed very displeased. "Watch your tongue. Remus only did what he thought was right, and apologized already! We can't erase the past. So now please calm down."

"Dad's right Pansy" offered Charlie.

Draco could see Mrs Weasley biting nervously her lip.

"You know. I'm surprised" 

Pansy straightened her posture and threw her long hair over her shoulders. She was no longer the screaming hysteric girl, but the proud young woman Draco knew her to be. While some would think this meant she had calmed down and collected herself, he knew too well that it didn't mean she was less dangerous. Quite the contrary. To get Pansy to yell at you, you already must have made her infuriated, something hard to achieve considering her ability to wield sarcasm and her patience. Draco only had seen it happen twice; when Zabini had thought stealing her journal was a funny thing to do and when he had stood her up for some stupid meeting. But then, when she stopped and it looked like she'd forget everything, a smile would float on her lips and before you knew something horrible would happen to you. While furious Pansy was all about emotions, quiet Pansy meant someone was going to die soon. 

"You're the ones who preach honesty and trust to everyone here. You keep telling me I'm safe with you, provided I play in your team. But please tell me how I can be safe somewhere people lie in my face?"

"Pansy dear, we never lied to-"

"You told me Draco would safe. Did you, or did you not?" she asked, interrupting the Weasley matriarch.

"We did but..."

"Did you, or did you not, confront Draco and perform spells against his will on him, while he was, I want to add, wandless? Did you, or did you not?" she insisted, seeing everyone look at each other, obviously uneasy. Seeing as no one answered, she turned back to Draco and grabbed his arm to pull him out of the room.

 

"I can't believe it. If we can't even trust fucking Gryffindors who are all about loyalty, where the fuck should be turn? Do we have to find ourselves a Hufflepuff instead to be able to feel safe?" she whispered as she led him through the corridors and up the stairs. "Well guess what next time they ask me to leave I'll just tell them to go fuck themselves with the fucking candles in this house, should there be enough. Fuck this house. Fuck them all."

She was still dragging him through the house until they reached what he presumed was her room. Everything was clean and ordered, he suspected it was because someone had cleaned while she was away. Still grumbling, she let him go after closing the door and let herself fall on her bed. Draco, noticing that they hadn't really spoken yet since she had arrived, decided to sit next to her dead-looking body. 

"Are you tired?"

"Tired of Gryffindor bullshit, yes, very, if that was the question."

He smirked and she rolled over to face the ceiling.

"I didn't mean it that way."

"Yeah I'm really tired, but I won't be able to sleep tonight. I doubt I'll be able to sleep here anymore to be completely honest." 

He smiled and let his hand crawl into her spread black hair. She flinched at first before relaxing her shoulders and letting him stroke it. He felt grateful that she was so angry on his behalf, but also worried about her health. Her cheekbones seemed more pointed than usual, and under her eyes slept dark bags. He knew she didn't like to sleep in places where she wasn't 100% sure she was safe there. Thinking about it, he remembered that during summer breaks she liked to come over to Malfoy Manor, and he would always be disappointed in his young arrogance and blissful ignorance when she spend entire days sleeping. He wondered if it had something to do with what she'd told him when he arrived here. If it had something to do with her mother. A strange sadness took hold of him when he thought of his own mother, and when it followed with the reality that he'd never be able to sleep normally in Malfoy Manor again after all of this. Whoever ended up winning it wouldn't matter. 

"How was your trip?" he asked trying to clear his mind of that kind of thoughts.

She snorted. "Trip. As if it had been a nice vacation. Idiot ginger almost got himself killed, that was fun."

"What did you do?"

"Tried to find influent and powerful people that weren't under the Imperius curse yet. The people downstairs think they need more allies, that makes sense, but knocking on people's door and asking if they're cursed or not is not what I would call a brilliant idea. The only thing we managed to do in the end is; lose our time and almost a head."

"How's it outside?" he asked after a moment.

"Not good" admitted Pansy.

 

Counter to what she had said before, Pansy did find sleep whilst Draco kept toying with her hair. He made sure she was well tucked under covers before leaving her bedroom. He wasn't very surprised to see someone waiting for him at the other side of the door. It had become common practice for people to want to talk to him here. 

"How is she?" asked Ronald. He was looking better off than some while ago, and had started circulating around the house again. Draco liked it, it meant he didn't have to bring him food upstairs. He shrugged, trying to look bored.

"Tired, as we could expect her to be."

"You realize what happened is not Lupin's fault right?"

"I wasn't the one who tried to strangle myself, but I guess if you say so."

"He just momentarily lost it okay? It's not that big of a surprise, we're all under pressure here, and this house makes people go mad." He was annoyed. Draco was surprised he had been around the other enough to tell by now, and had also lost the will to fight or to curse the ginger. Maybe it was because there was too much of them. "Could you..." The Slytherin frowned as Weasley looked away, ruffling his hair. "Could you maybe try to explain it to her?"

"Explain her what?" he taunted, intrigued by the change of attitude. It almost looked like Ronald was flustered. He did not understand why. 

"That... we all regret what happened. We didn't want it to happen that way but things still happened and arg. I don't know how to say that." Draco felt even more lost than usual. A moment ago he couldn't understand, and now he was scared to understand what was going on. The ginger blushed before finally settling on what he thought were the best words he could find. "Things like that won't happen again. Tell her she can still trust us. Please."

Draco was flabbergasted. Not just because Weasley had managed to turn something that happened to him into a conversation about Pansy, but also because he felt he knew too well what was going on. 

"By _us_ , do you mean _you_? You want her to still trust you? Am I right?"

"Whatever." he blurted out. "I have to go. Just tell her the bloody thing, will you Malfoy."

"Sure." he replied. Ron nodded and left. Meanwhile he stood alone in the corridor, weighing the fact that maybe Weasley was right. Maybe the house _did_ make them all go bonkers. 

 

The next morning he was greeted in the kitchen by Mrs Weasley. When he arrived down the stairs and pushed the door he had the time to notice her burn some papers and throw a happy smile on her face before approaching him. He acted like he hadn't noticed. After all, it wasn't really that big of a shock now that they were keeping things from him. One day he might even think it was normal.

"Draco dear! How was your night?"

"Fine thank you." he nodded politely.

"Here, have a cuppa. And..." her tone changed to a quieter one. Draco noticed she shot an anxious glance at the door, as to make sure no one was hiding behind, or planned on coming in unannounced. "How is she?"

"Still sleeping for the moment I think, otherwise we would have heard her."

"Do you think she'll be feeling better?"

An amused smile took place on Draco's lips for a moment as he rose his cup to them. 

"I hope so."

"I can't really blame her for being unhappy about what happened to you, we did give her our word, and I would have reacted the same if someone had harmed one of my children" tried to explain Mrs Weasley while busying her on some eggs. "However it's something we're all upset about, so I think it would be better if she... you know. Took it easier."

"Yes Mrs Weasley."

"We don't want any part of the house exploding, now do we dear?"

"Of course not Mrs Weasley."

"Good. Now eat will you."

He nodded again and helped himself from the plate she placed near him. From the corner of the eye he also saw her draw a chair and sit at his right.

"I know you probably don't want to talk about it..."

He resisted the urge to sigh. He should have known. Someone waiting for him in the kitchen with tea ready should have rang an alarm in his head. He was going to get a talk again.

"I know it's maybe too early to talk about it, but have you thought about our offer?"

"Not really" he admitted, also not wanting to linger on this subject.

"Will you think about it again then dear? I know it has been said and repeated, but you might be really useful here if you wanted to..."

"Is the situation really that bad?"

Mrs Weasley's expression darkened instantly. "What has Pansy told you?"

"Not much. Is there something I should know?"

"Not really."

He took this as a cue to shut up and eat the rest of his eggs. However in his mind a tension was building, and anticipation made him find the courage to ask.

"Do you know anything about my parents?"

This time Molly looked endeared. She smiled to him before seizing his empty plate and heading to the sink.

"Sorry love. I don't."


End file.
